Chapter 11

ELEVEN

W hat the fuck was Project Dreamcatcher?

Zed put a pin in that thought for the moment, lacking the energy to parse it out. Instead, he reached for Flick's hand. He didn't need to touch him to understand the rage that thrummed through him—it was all but palpable—but he wanted to offer some wordless comfort, calm him down some. He wasn't surprised when Flick avoided his touch and tucked his hand between his knees.

He got it. Sometimes you just didn't want to be calmed down.

Shrugging it off, Zed turned back to Preston and lifted his chin. "Project Dreamweaver has been disavowed. There is nothing to talk about."

"Dreamweaver might be done, but Dreamcatcher is well underway. You've met one of my soldiers and you are in a unique position to help his team."

"Why would I want to do that?"

Preston's smile softened. "Because you couldn't save any of your teammates. But I'm prepared to give you another chance."

Tension rippled through Zed like a wave, rocking him back and forward again. Goddamn Preston and her fucking mind games. She knew how to manipulate soldiers like no one else he'd met, always knowing their weaknesses and just what to say to get them to agree to what she wanted. Zed had seen her in action during the project. It sickened him that, at the time, he was grateful for her ability to read his teammates and poke them to the right conclusion—failing out of Dreamweaver wasn't an option. Not a healthy one, anyway.

"Fuck you." Zed leaned back and folded his arms. Not the most eloquent answer, but heartfelt.

Preston tilted her head. "You were so much more polite when you were a part of the AEF, Zander."

"And you haven't changed a bit, Carly ."

The spark returned to Preston's eyes. "No, I haven't. I still believe in this project and its value to humanity."

"Value? You're killing people trying to make something that shouldn't exist." At Flick's words, Zed reached out again but Flick wormed his shoulder away from Zed's fingers and raised his hands. "I'm finished throwing punches, but I'm not going to sit by and listen to this madwoman try to justify what she's doing to the men and women she's supposed to value ."

Moving in, Preston caught his hand, the crystal one, her eyes wide, expression hungry. "Is this what I think it is?"

"It's cybernetic and dead," Flick said, trying to pull his hand from her grasp.

"You're a worse liar than your lover, Mr. Ingesson."

Fuck. Zed clenched his jaw. He'd hoped Preston hadn't realized who Flick was, but he was hardly anonymous. He'd starred in a number of holos when reporters had gotten too close to Zed. Not to mention the news about his arm—though if she'd seen those holos, she wouldn't be asking about it. That raised the question of the amount of time Preston had been on Paradise. How long had this new project of hers been operating?

"How did you come by this?"

Enough. Zed pushed himself between Preston and Flick, nudging her back. Her coterie of guards pressed forward, but she lifted her hands. "There's no need for violence. I asked a simple question."

Zed glowered. "You do not touch him, do you understand?"

"Aw, you're so protective."

"Should have seen them holding hands earlier," Dayne put in with a smirk.

Zed sat down next to Flick and took his hand, not letting him pull away this time. He needed the connection with Flick, and he suspected Flick needed it too—a suspicion that was confirmed when Flick pressed against his side. Zed could almost feel Flick absorbing his strength, his purpose, his nearly shredded calm. Then Flick's rage skittered across, transformed into energy and focus. It helped. It didn't ease the aches over most of his body or give him much of a second wind, but it helped.

He couldn't prevent the fear he felt from trickling across to Flick—but, somehow, when he felt an answering tendril, that helped too.

"There's a reason you're here," Preston said. "Alive and well, fully functional. You're what we dreamed of, Zander. The perfect soldier."

Zed couldn't deny he was a soldier. That was for life. But like hell he was going to throw in with Preston's craziness. "I am no longer a part of the AEF. And neither are you."

"That's why we'll get it right this time." Preston smiled.

"Looks to me like you already did."

"Not yet. My new team is more stable than yours ever was, but they're still going to succumb to the effects of the stin poison in time. That is why your data is so important to us. Thank you for that, by the way."

"If you have the data, why do you need me?"

Preston clucked her tongue. "I would have thought that was obvious. I need you to train these soldiers. Mason managed to evade you on Chloris, but the rest of them? They're not heroes, not yet. Just think, your own team again. Men and women like you."

Zed shoved aside the momentary flicker of want at that thought and shook his head. "I want no part in it."

"You don't have a choice. You're here and here you will stay."

"You don't think Central will wonder where the emissary got to?" Or that the Guardians wouldn't? Zed didn't think he needed to add that part. It should be obvious.

"The galaxy is a big place and mostly unexplored. People disappear all the time."

But his family had already lost their youngest son once. They weren't likely to let it happen again, even if they had to hire every merc and treasure hunter to turn over every last rock on every last fucking planet, explored or not.

"Now, I think it's time you got some rest. You're no good to me with a concussion, and your wrist needs time to set. Tomorrow is an important day." Preston smiled her horribly warm smile, then gestured at Andy and Dayne. "See that our guests are made comfortable."

Letting go of Flick's hand, Zed rose to his feet. "You might as well find your deepest, darkest hole and put me there now. I will not be helping you." If he hadn't been so exhausted, he might have bitten back the words—they sounded almost like a dare.

"Oh, I think I can change your mind."

Todd, face flustered and red, stepped forward. "Wait just a goddamned minute. He said he didn't wanna?—"

Preston turned to the colony leader. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten our agreement, Mr. Todd."

Todd held her gaze, his face growing redder as he clearly fought with himself. "No," he said finally. "I haven't."

"Excellent." Preston nodded toward Andy. "Take Mr. Ingesson down to my laboratory. I think he'll be very comfortable in the holding facilities I have there." She turned to address Zed. "Did you know the resonance substance deteriorates after a while?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The communication shards the resonance gifted us with. They stop working after a while, don't they?"

The resonance had provided a set of small shards to each species in order to facilitate communication. After two months, the mental signal had weakened to the point where the shards no longer worked reliably. By then, other means of communication were being tested. Visual codes based on mathematics that could be sent back and forth using the existing relay point network. But the crystal shards remained the fastest, clearest and most reliable method of talking with the wholly telepathic aliens. The resonance had agreed to replace the shards every eight weeks, offering fresh ones to be distributed from the Hub.

Zed gave the barest nod in response to Preston's observation.

She tipped her head toward Flick. "That makes Felix here very, very important to my research. His arm is alive and will remain so while it is attached to his body. The perfect source of living resonance substance." Her warm smile finally vanished, leaving a cold and calculating expression in its wake. "So I'll be keeping him in that deep, dark hole you suggested until you realize our arrangement is mutually beneficial."

They took him to a deep dark hole. Led him toward the rear of the settlement and into a fucking cave at the base of the cliff. Felix tried giving Andy a betrayed look. They'd bonded over 'factor cubes and mechanical failure, hadn't they? Ignoring him, Andy kept a tight grip on Felix's right arm. Another colonist held his left just as firmly. Together, they all but dragged him out of the mess, past a yelling Zed. Felix gave only a token struggle. His head hurt. Beyond that, he knew riling up Zed would likely get them both killed. Zed couldn't possibly Zone again in his condition.

The ache in his head—a combination of barely repressed rage and two fists to the face—made mapping his passage into the caves difficult. He tried to keep track of the turns, but lost his bearings after the first few. The darkness between each striplight clawed at him and the tunnels wandered and diverged chaotically, the only sign of excavation the occasional scraped ceiling or wall where the way had been widened. Now and again, an opening in the wall was sealed by a hatch set into the stone. Felix mused over the manner in which the doors had been installed. If he was locked behind one of them, could he hack it? Or could he scrape away at the sealant to either side?

His escort paused in front of another hatch and unlocked it…with a key. Damn it. Though, with power being at a premium, they probably saved most of it for essential functions. Felix had plenty of experience picking locks. Give him the proper motivation, and enough time, and he could get through just about anything. Motivation wasn't going to be an issue. Felix hated being locked up. And time…

"There's no light." The awful observation left him in a whisper.

"It's just for tonight," Andy said.

"No, you can't leave me here in the dark."

"Don't worry, the door locks tight. Bogeyman ain't gonna get ya."

"You don't understand. I…The dark…" Felix searched the blackness for anything he might have missed. A source of light so dim it only became apparent after a while. He found nothing. He turned back to Andy and swallowed. A part of him wanted to beg. A greater part urged him to fight, to put Andy and his fellow guard down. Flee. Find Zed. Escape this fucking madness.

He leaned forward and the other guard pushed him back, crowding the doorway and barring escape. Felix drew on his rage and readied his fists.

Silhouetted by the meager light in the tunnel, Andy shook his head. "Don't even think about it. You seem like a good enough guy and I can't say as Dr. Preston's little army makes me comfortable. But this is my home and she's got the resources we need to keep this place going. So I will hurt you if you try anything stupid."

Something in Andy's tone touched Felix—hit the interrupt on his rage and tossed him into reflection. It was the reasonableness of Andy's statement, though how anyone could reasonably defend Preston was beyond him. But Andy probably didn't know the full extent of what Preston was doing. His blissful ignorance might be purposeful, but Felix got that too. Because he understood the underlying plea his jailor had just made. This godawful planet was Andy's home, and for some, that meant everything.

Wouldn't Felix have fought for his home if he could?

The other guard pushed him into the room and tossed something on the floor as the door began to swing shut. "Night night."

The door closed with a clang. The sound of the lock engaging scraped the silence seconds later. Batting at his left wrist, Felix activated his bracelet. A small holo threw a shallow pool of light into the dark space. It wasn't enough. He needed a light by the back wall so he knew how far away it was. He needed to know the blackness wasn't complete, that it wouldn't choke him.

He looked at the door. Shit and all the shit . He needed a door that locked from the inside. Not this pitted expanse of metal with no hinges and no handle. Curling the fingers of his right hand into a fist, Felix made to punch the door…and stopped. Breaking his hand wouldn't help. He needed to think his way out of the darkness.

His back itched. His head ached. His heart plodded along in his chest, every beat a call to his missing other half. What was Preston doing with Zed? To Zed? She wouldn't cut him up, would she? Turn him into a lab rat?

No, stupid. She's going to cut you up.

Felix gripped his left wrist—ran his fingers up to the cuff of his sleeve, pushing the fabric back as he caressed his crystalline skin.

There was no fucking way she was taking his arm.

His boot nudged something on the floor. Felix jumped back, his yell echoing inside the dark chamber. Then he remembered the other guard tossing something down. It had looked like a pouch. Rations? Water? Bending down, he swept the light of his holo display across the bare rock until he found it. Looked like a water pouch. He found a tab at the corner and pressed it. The flexible material extruded a small spout. Felix drank. Tasted weird, but the only thing worse than being stuck in a hole in the ground was being thirsty. He'd know. Stin had never given them enough water.

Man, he was tired.

After a few sips, Felix resealed the pouch and tucked it into a pocket of his utility pants. Then he explored the outline of the door. It hadn't suddenly grown a hinge or an internal mechanism. Would Zed be able to pass through it? It couldn't be any thicker than the cargo door of the Chaos , but shifting through that had messed Zed up for a while. And, right now, Zed was probably hurting more than he was. More tired too. Sighing, Felix rested his forehead against the metal. Maybe if he stayed here, his bracelet shining up into his face…

The lack of light behind him pressed at his back. Felix turned and sank to the floor, pushing his itching back into the door. He drew his knees up and rested his left arm across the top so that the holo display was between him and the rest of the cell.

Baldy had only taken anything they might use as a weapon. Not bracelets or wallets. Felix looked at the holographic comms button. If he tried to contact Zed, what was the worst that could happen? He'd almost welcome the oblivion of another beating. One more knock to the head would be enough to send him down. Preston needed both of them alive and well, though, and opening the doors to their cells, either to punish them or just take their wallets away, offered another opportunity for escape. If he were Preston, he wouldn't risk it.

Felix tapped the button. "Zed?"

Endless seconds passed before the connection hissed and Zed whispered in reply, "Flick?"

All the aches and pains in his body joined forces with all the banked anger and frustration, forming a lump that blocked his throat. Felix swallowed furiously—once, twice—trying to clear the obstruction. His voice sounded strained when he found it again, but the only word he could summon was "Zed."

He didn't want to name his terrors, he didn't want to circle his fear. He wanted to tell Zed he loved him, but worried the declaration would precipitate some sort of end. Choking on distress, he wished he'd said yes to Zed's proposal of marriage the very second he'd asked. Yes, yes, yes .

Maybe Zed would have turned the ship around and…

"Flick, are you there? Talk to me." Scuffling filled the transmission. "I'm going to try my door."

"Locked," Felix managed, though his tongue remained glued to the roof of his mouth.

"Might be able to shift through it. Keep talking, let me know you're okay. Did they hurt you?"

"No, don't try the door. I'm good. Just in a hole. I'll be fine. You're too—" An aborted shout and thump interrupted him. "Zed!" More of those fucking endless seconds ticked by. "Zed!"

"'M here."

"Are you all right?"

"Tried to shift, but I can't. I'm sorry, I'll try again soon. Maybe if I rest ? —"

Felix could picture Zed leaning against the door of his cell—or wherever Preston had put him—forehead creased with pain, shoulders drawn up stiffly, lips moving over needless apologies. "Stop. Don't do this, just stop. You're going to fuck yourself up more if you try again. Just…just sleep. We'll both sleep and tomorrow we'll figure something out."

Everything always looked better in the morning.

"Tomorrow I'll get you out of here. I promise. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. I love you." It was okay to say it now. Not quite as final. Maybe.